The Ruin in the Dawn
by missherlocked
Summary: Nezumi would show Shion how to erase the pain. Whose pain and what pain remained unspoken-but it was answered. Nezumi/Shion. Fluff.


**Disclaimer: I don't own No. 6, its characters, or whatever related to it. No profit is made from this fiction.**

The moment was not broken when the sun rose from the top of the massive wall of No. 6. It was the same sun Nezumi had always seen in the mornings when he had some business to attend very early in the day, but this was the first time he bothered to watch since Shion seemed inclined to do so.

"I have to show you something," Nezumi said, because he had to make Shion shifted his attention to him.

"What is it?" Shion asked with his usual air of innocent curiosity.

Nezumi could show many things. The dragonsnaps that bloomed in some weird twist in the Dogkeeper's garden, Emily Dickinson's book of poems in the upper right hand corner on the second row of the bookshelf, the scars on his back—amongst other things that best should not be mentioned.

"Your hand is cold," Shion whined and Nezumi erased the picture of the pout it usually came with from his brain.

Of course they were cold. Nezumi had been gripping his blanket all night so tightly that his blood might not have been running to the tip of his fingers. He was afraid of falling asleep, afraid of waking up without Shion's sounds of breathing filling up the room or the natural warmth that the boy emitted.

"Yours is too hot," Nezumi answered lamely, a little bit less savage and clever than what he would like to reply, but thinking of last night reminding him of Shion's goodnight kiss or the implication that Shion apparently thought they were intimate enough to make the reason behind the kiss as a goodnight kiss. Shion could've said that the kiss was all purely for scientific purpose or because that seemed like the right thing to do or something imbecile along the same line that was _so_ Shion.

Nezumi wanted to let go of Shion's hands because if he kept on holding longer he might not be able to let go at all, but the thought of it sent fear deep to his marrow. _You cannot afford to be attached to this guy_, Nezumi scolded himself, but it echoed low and false on his being.

"Don't let go," Shion suddenly said from behind his shoulder. They were running, God knew why, but they were running so fast like a herd of No.6 police was hot on their tails and there was no forever and heaven was a breath away but it was so far, so far.

The ruins were disarray blurs of brown and slate gray with a touch of moss' sick green, but if he wanted it, the heat of Shion's palm in his could turn that disorganization into grand marble pillars, glorious ivory under the dawn lights and ivy with old dandelions waved as they ran.

They were halfway to their house when Nezumi halted short and turned around, pulling Shion with him so abruptly that the smaller boy almost fell, but in any case, if he did fall, Nezumi would be willing to go down with him. It would not happen anyways since Nezumi was always ready to catch him—and there, just like now, Shion was caught and snug on his arms.

"I want to have this dance," Nezumi said, but of course it was an order. Impatiently he yanked Shion's head back with an ungentle pull on his nape because it took too long for Shion to reply.

"I don't like to dance," the boy in question replied, disheveled and winded, eyes too big and teary. "Give me a chance to breathe, will you?"

Shion tried to pull out of Nezumi's embrace but a determined arm kept him in place a little bit too tightly. He frowned but didn't ask why, and Nezumi fought the crazy impulse to lick the worry away. He put the side of his nose to Shion's forehead instead, feeling the aliveness of his skin and the tang of fresh perspiration which he engaged a winning battle not to taste.

There were a lot of words Nezumi wanted to say at that moment, like "Don't ever leave me," "Don't ever do that again," "I like this—us being close like this-" but Nezumi was no man of sentences or petty syllables. "Let's dance," now he commanded straightly instead, and Shion seemed to understand those unspoken words because he answered a breathless yes.

"I'm no good at dancing," Shion tried his last attempt in avoiding the whole ordeal half-heartedly.

"You're no good in everything besides getting me into trouble," Nezumi bit back, putting his hands into the right position. He slid his left palm from Shion's nape down his spine, eliciting a rather exciting squirm, and Nezumi hoped he was the cause of that blush and not the running they did before. Dusty red was a rather lovely color on Shion's pale skin and it was quite hard to get that sort of response because of the boy's endearing obliviousness. He didn't even blush when kissing him last night. Disappointing, really.

They waltzed so very close. Their lower bodies kept brushing each other and after two triangles, the contact was kept solid that way. Shion leaned back on his hand to look into his eyes as they skipped, and the crumbling earth underneath his feet felt like the crunch of wild grass on an infinite green meadow Nezumi saw a long time ago in an old, red storybook.

Shion made everything sounded just right and possible. With that thought pelting back and forth on his mind, Nezumi twirled Shion even though it was a waltz. The move caught Shion off guard and before the boy got the chance to steady himself on his feet, Nezumi was hitching him and kissing him hard.

"What was that for?" Shion asked dazedly after it ended as Nezumi watched a trickle of saliva—which might be his for all that matters—in the end of Shion's lips.

"That was how a goodnight kiss supposed to be," Nezumi answered with a note of satisfaction, still observing the beguiling picture that Shion would make.

The later didn't respond for a while, licking the corner of his mouth which felt too wet. "Can you do it again?" Shion asked with a tilt of his head that was just not-so-coincidentally perfect for what he asked for. "I don't think I really get how to do it."

_This guy—_Nezumi started, but he couldn't finish the thought because no words could adequately describe Shion. To describe this: a paragon of a moment and the boy who made this came true. He let out a surprised chortle instead and it decayed into a smirk. "Yes, Your Majesty," Nezumi said and kissed him again, harder and more thoroughly this time. If anything, Shion was a fast learner that he _totally_ got it the previous time they kissed, keeping up with every lap and nibble and change of angle. He understood waltz the first time he tried and he knew the right way to throttle even though he only saw it once four years ago. This time, however, Nezumi refused to give him the chance to follow his lead: he varied the pace without any pattern, sweeping his tongue on a wide, quick stroke; then abruptly nicking the center of Shion's lower lip with a firm graze of his canine. He unwaveringly declined Shion air that when the boy choked in a last desperate effort to get oxygen, Nezumi sucked the air out of him right away.

Nezumi finished the kiss after Shion wasn't really responding and quite limp on his arms.

"So that was yet another example of a goodnight kiss," Nezumi said. Shion reacted with a muffled cry and a hit to the back of Nezumi's shoulder. "You have a long way to go. You said you wanted to be my equal, didn't you? Do try to keep up."

Shion looked up sharply, almost hitting Nezumi's chin in the process. Look at him, so young, so very easy to rile. With jaw set Shion pulled him in with a harsh tug of his collar, absolutely unaware of Nezumi's unmistakable manipulation to get yet another kiss.

Nezumi had not taught him how to moan his name properly but Shion had already mastered it. It might be just an excuse for Shion to steal a breath, but it was a brilliant one that Nezumi let him do it again and again.

"Is this-" Shion croaked, pulling away just enough but Nezumi leaned down to follow those pair of lips like an addict to his pot, "Nezu-ah-" and Shion grinded. Nezumi, too surprised and turned on, paused to groan and Shion took the opportunity to finish. "Is this what you want to show me?"

"Idiot," the taller could only say. "Where do you learn how to do-" Shion rolled his hips again, and- "yes, _that_, just _that_-Shion-"

The childlike smile absolutely didn't belong to a guy who suddenly became an expert in sinful things like this. "I think I know what feels good," Shion answered, grinning. "Human gains pleasure and release from rhythmic friction, thus this moveme-"

Nezumi bit Shion's ear to shut him up, but it didn't seem to be working as much as he wanted to.

"Oh- that was- that feels good, too," Shion whispered before whimpering Nezumi's name like a holy string of pleas. He kept on the running commentary as Nezumi dragged his tongue down the visible vein on his pale neck. "This doesn't make sense—how am I sensitive in that spot-"

Shion was still too much coherent even though Nezumi was sure he wasn't losing his touch. He didn't like the fact that he couldn't affect Shion as much as Shion could affect him.

"I will show you how to erase the pain," Nezumi snarled before sinking his teeth in the spot right under the pink scar on the side of Shion's neck. Another shade of red would look dashing there, Nezumi thought as he ignored Shion's yelp of pain and protest. "I have to show you how to-"

"-erase the pain, yes," Shion finished for him, his voice softened. What pain and whose pain he didn't ask, for they both knew the answer. So they ran again with Shion letting Nezumi dragged him hard on his wrist with a thumb over his vein. It would bruise tomorrow but heck, Shion already had more bruises today than he'd had ever, and if the feel of his pulse brought comfort to Nezumi, he would let him held his wrist forever.

They got home not fast enough for Nezumi's liking and he threw Shion easily to the small bed. He climbed up on top of Shion right after that, unbuckling his belt because his pants were already too tight around his groin. He could hear Shion gulped.

"I am curious of how this works," Shion asked with a small, trembling voice. He swallowed back whatever words he wanted to say next after seeing Nezumi opened his zippers. He never looked away though and appeared to be simply intrigued.

Shion stripped out of his layers of clothes after being ordered to do so twice. He was too slow so Nezumi helped him, and Shion learned that Nezumi liked to nibble with his front teeth just like a rat: on his earlobe, on the dip of his right collarbone, on his nipple and in the fold of his elbow. He liked to scratch a lot too, leaving blunt four fingernails track just about everywhere. Nezumi was particularly fascinated with his scar stripe and run his tongue on the long track from his chest down to his calf that it didn't feel wet anymore when it reached the end.

"I'll show you," Nezumi said cockily before clamping his lips around Shion, alternating his licks between lazy brush and mind-blowing flourish. Shion arched to him charmingly, his hands quivered and even unhealthier white when he gripped the sheets.

The fire on Nezumi's stomach was a steady escalating burn. Every time Shion cried his name, it felt like it was poured with fresh oil, flaring hard and too hot. He had to do something to ease this- just something- and he rubbed his erection to the mattress, grunting because it felt good.

"I want to suck you too," Shion implored after realizing that Nezumi was relatively neglected. Nezumi stiffened a bit but he looked so lured by the idea. However, when Shion attempted to turn them around, Nezumi pinned him down with his weight and a movement of his hips.

"And I want to fuck you so good that you thought you'd die," Nezumi replied. Shion wanted to look into his eyes but all he could see was the dirty ceiling behind Nezumi's shoulder, and he was too busy rocking his pelvis anyways to do anything else.

"How-ah- I thought the sucking is fine- a mouth is certainly hot and tight enough-oh. _Oh_."

Nezumi smirked wickedly and it only got wider when Shion added interestedly, "I think I'd like to try that."

_This is the very ecstasy of love_, Nezumi suddenly wanted to quote Hamlet, but of course he failed himself to do so. He didn't know what this was- this perverse relationship between them, it was too soon to be called love (that disgusting, filthy thing,) and before he could add more to the thought Shion reached between them and pulled.

"You just have to be a fucking natural in everything, don't you?" Nezumi mumbled after a particularly embarrassing sound. Immaturely proud of himself, Shion reached down again but Nezumi stopped him with a prod of his finger in Shion's.

"Relax," the taller boy drawled, and succeeded putting one in.

"I think you need something to ease it in," Shion inquired casually, as if he didn't have a finger up his ass.

Sometimes Nezumi hated Shion for being so unemotional, and hated himself for being so influenced by it. Sometimes Shion was too adorable for his own good, too, like the way his thigh shook right now and his lips shuddering, but Nezumi wasn't about to say that.

"I know, so shut up," Nezumi snapped and got off the bed. He didn't have any lubricants with him and a careless rummage of his drawers revealed that he couldn't find anything to serve the purpose. There was also nothing in the bathroom besides toothpaste, a bar of soap, and a half-full bottle of shampoo…

Nezumi ran to the bathroom, quickly spraying some water to the soap. He rubbed his palm around it haphazardly, applied some foam around his cock and rubbed the soap again. When he got back to the room, he found Shion leaning on the wall, head thrown back. He was always effortlessly seductive. His right hand was working languidly on his length while he stretched himself with two digits. It was easily the hottest thing Nezumi had ever seen and it took every will power not to come on the spot.

He was between Shion's legs in matter of seconds and added another finger, curling it on every direction possible to find that spot.

"How daring of you to start without me," Nezumi was all but growled predatorily, while Shion just beamed.

When Nezumi hit the spot, Shion clamped his tight hard and clenched in soundlessly. The later deemed Shion was ready then, hurriedly flattened the albino on the bed and positioned himself. Then he drove in, slowly but surely, and before he could familiarize himself with the tightness and the luscious heat, Shion impaled.

"Ooh, it's on," Nezumi said with a spank to Shion's ass, annoyed that he didn't get to move first.

"Do try to keep up," Shion threw Nezumi's words back, but the effect aimed was quite weak because he sounded like begging.

The fire was now ten-time folds. Nezumi thrust true to the spot to make Shion came first. He wanted to talk dirty—that was what a talent was for—but currently he was unable to form any rational sentence. Shion came after several deep strikes, and the fire was ablaze bright; Nezumi rushed after it, so close-

Shion whispered Nezumi's name low that it grated on his insides, and Nezumi was gone. The pit of his stomach was reduced to glowing embers.

"I liked that," Shion commented, having gathered his wits faster than Nezumi, much to his annoyance. "How was the pain?"

Nezumi didn't answer, choosing to listen to Shion's heartbeat. It was palpitating so rapidly that Nezumi was afraid it was about to burst, but so was his heart. The up and down of Shion's chest soothed Nezumi somehow, and when Shion hummed, his chest vibrated in a way that made Nezumi so sleepy. "I'm here, Nezumi—I'm here…" Shion spoke softly to his hair repeatedly, and Nezumi fell asleep to that.

They might be in love to each other and they might not—Shion deliberately chose the word 'drawn' and not 'love' after all, while Nezumi was wary of Shion more than he was attracted to him—but Shion erased the pain, and that was enough.

The end

**A.N.: I can't believe I just wrote this (hiding behind her laptop). Thanks for reading! (It would be so lovely if someone could beta this story, too!)**

**P.S.: Blame Shion for being so cute and Nezumi for being so possessive that I just couldn't help but submit to a smut!fic muse's temptation.**

**© fitha **


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